Scars Written On His Skin
by californiablueeyes
Summary: Lenna, a doctor, is captured by Hydra and forced to tend to the wounds of the Winter Soldier. She is afraid of him, but can see in him traces of humanity. Will she be able to reach him and save him from what they have made him into? *Warnings: Brief Nudity, Violence, Trauma, Abuse
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Lenna, a doctor, has been captured by Hydra and is forced to tend to the wounds of the Winter Soldier. The man is deadly, and she is afraid, but she is determined to help him find his humanity. Will she be able to reach a man who is so broken?

Scars Written On His Skin

"Get in there! Quickly!" The guard roughly pushed me into the dark cell. My body ached from the beating he'd given me the day before. I had been kidnapped, beaten, and tortured by Hydra all in the last week. I was to be their on-hand doctor.

They could have killed me. I wasn't supposed to have overheard a conversation between two of their agents in that alley last Thursday night walking home from my shift at the VA hospital, but I heard every word, and they could have killed me for it. When they brought me to Alexander Peirce, the man in charge, he said I would be of better use to them alive, for the time being. My only thoughts in the next week were to survive. Survive and get the hell out of this place as soon as I could.

My only patient was to be a man whom they called The Asset. He was described as Hydra's deadliest weapon and it's most skilled assassin. From what I had gathered he had been on countless missions and never disobeyed orders or failed in his assignments. He had a powerful metal arm and could kill a man with the flick of his wrist. He was a ghost. Formidable. Deadly. I was nervous to be locked up in a room alone with him.

I looked around the room. A man was sitting on the cold stone floor his back against the wall. I single light bulb hung from the ceiling and flickered dimly. There was a faucet and sink with a small counter-top with cabinets, a metal stool in one corner of the room, and a drain in the middle of the floor. The guard threw a first aid kit bag in after me.

"Clean him, tend to his wounds, and push this buzzer when you are done. A guard will come collect you. Everything you need is in the bag and in the sink cabinet. There is a garden under the sink cabinet to clean him." He turned and added, "And make sure you don't upset The Asset. You're here because he killed the last doctor." He chuckled and left, leaving me with the man sitting in the dark corner.

I couldn't see him very well. His long shaggy black hair covered his face and he was hunched over. There was blood on the floor around him and on his suit. A lot of blood. _It can't all be his blood, can it?_ I cleared my throat and spoke to him softly.

"Will you come sit on this stool so I can examine you?" I spoke timidly. He didn't look at me or say a word to me as he slowly got up from the floor and sat in the chair. His movements were robotic and he stared at the opposite wall in silence, with blank eyes and a set jaw.

"I'm Lenna, by the way." He made no response.

I could see him better now. He had a shadow of dark scruff on his face and chin, and his hair was dark and matted with sweat and blood. His eyes, though blank and emotionless, were fearsome and beautiful: blue and green and dark all at the same time. His suit was covered in blood and he had a prosthetic metal arm. The arm looked powerful and deadly.

After staring at his arm nervously for a few seconds, and thinking of what the guard had told me about the previous doctor, I remembered my instructions. I noticed first, a deep cut above one of his eyebrows. I decided I would take his vitals and then tend to the cut first.

"May I take your vitals?" I asked him quietly. He said nothing.

"I'll check your pulse first." I didn't want to touch him and put him in attack mode. He was very big and that metal arm was so intimidating. I realized to take his vitals he would need to remove his suit so I would have full access to him. Not to mention I needed to clean him too.

"Um, I just realized it would be easier for me if you removed your suit, that way I could-"

He interrupted me by standing up and immediately started undoing buckles and straps removing the blood stained clothes robotically. He kicked off his boots and unzipped his pants letting them fall to the floor. Stepping out of them, he kicked the pile of clothes to the opposite corner of the room. He stood by the table in black boxer briefs and a white tank undershirt.

"Thank you." I swallowed. "You can sit down again if you want." He sat rigid on the stool staring at the wall again. He seemed to be programmed to follow orders- as if he had been stripped of his free will. He followed orders and merely existed.

I placed my fingers lightly on his wrist to take his pulse. His skin was warm, which surprised me- he must have been in this cold dark room for hours.

"Your heart rate is slightly above normal, but nothing to be concerned about." I told him. He continued to stare blankly at the wall. I took the stethoscope from my bag to listen to his lungs. He lifted his shirt automatically, knowing my intent. He must know the drill. His chest was covered in bruises of varying shades of color. I could see faint scars that had long since healed over.

I placed the cold stethoscope on his chest and asked him to take a deep breath in and then slowly exhale. His chest rose under my hand. I moved the stethoscope slightly.

"Another deep breath please, in and out." He obeyed. "Lean forward for me." I asked gently. He did. His back was just as bruised and scarred as his chest. I placed the stethoscope on his back and he breathed in and out slowly as I listened. I could feel his muscles relax slightly.

"Thank you. Your lungs sound great." I said as I stepped away from him to write on his medical chart. I washed my hands and forearms thoroughly with a bar of soap sitting on the sink.

"Let's take a look at that eyebrow, huh?" He sat up straight still staring at the wall. I put on some latex gloves and took cotton balls, hydrogen peroxide, and a small sewing kit from the bag. The cut looked deep and I thought he might need a few stitches.

I took a cotton ball and moistened it with water from the sink. "I'm going to clean it first, OK?" He tensed again and sat up straighter as if he was expecting more pain. I gently pushed the hair away from the cut and tucked it behind his left ear. I dabbed softly around the wound cleaning away the blood and sweat. I decided I might as well clean up his whole face so I got a clean wash cloth from one of the drawers in the sink and run it under hot water to moisten it.

I wrung it out making sure it wasn't too hot, placed my hand gently on the back of his neck to steady his head, and softly began to wipe the filth and blood from the rest of his face. As I worked I could feel his eyes turn to my face. I glanced at his eyes for a moment. His brow was slightly furrowed, but he didn't look angry. Confused maybe. I gave him a slight smile and stepped away from him to get a new cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide on it to clean the cut. He continued to stare at me.

"I am going to sterilize the wound now to prevent infection. It will sting a bit." He nodded. I placed one of my hands on the side of his head and started dabbing the cut above his eyebrow. He inhaled sharply, and closed his eyes. His face remained blank, showing no signs of pain. With the cut clean I removed my gloves, and threaded the needle for stitches.

Then I realized something. There was nothing in the medical bag to numb the area or any sort of pain killers. I searched through all of the drawers and cabinets in the sink and there was nothing.

"I'm just going to push the buzzer and have someone bring something to numb the area so you're not in pain." As I started to walk to the cell door his metal arm reached out and grabbed my arm in a tight grip, jerking me back. My heart jumped and I turned to face him slightly frightened and confused.

"No." He said a hint of panic in his voice. It was the first word he had spoken to me.

"It will hurt." I protested tying to pull away. My eyes darted to his metal hand still gripping my arm.

"No." He said more forcefully and his grip tightened. I winced.

"Okay." I said. He let go of my arm and sat back on the stool, staring at the wall again. I rubbed my arm where his hand had been. It was red and would probably bruise.

I cautiously made my way back to the counter and picked up the needle and thread. I was a little more nervous to be within close proximity with him again, my hands were shaking, but I knew his wound needed tending. I willed myself to go into "doctor mode" and leaned in slowly, willing my hands to steady. He didn't even flinch when the needle entered his skin, though the muscles in his neck, back, and shoulders tensed. He closed his eyes and I could see his jaw clench. I pulled the needle through and worked as quickly and as accurately as I could.

When I was finished I stepped back to examine my work.

"All done." I said. He opened his eyes slowly, staring ahead.

Five neat stitches held the skin together above his eyebrow. I was proud of my work. It was the best I could do, given the circumstances. He hadn't flinched once, though his muscles were still tense.

"Do you have any other wounds I need to tend too?"

He didn't answer. I assumed his silence meant no.

"Then I suppose… I was ordered to clean you. What does that normally entail? Isn't there a restroom with a shower nearby?"

He stood abruptly, pushing by me and got the garden hose out from under the sink. He walked over to a spigot on the wall and attached the hose. He returned to me, handed me the hose, and removed his tank shirt and boxer briefs. He did all of this without any expression or embarrassment- as if it was absolutely normal. He stood in the middle of the room over the drain, his hands clasped in front of him.

"Clean." He said flatly, staring at the floor. Every muscle in his body was tense, anticipating being sprayed down with a forceful stream of icy water.

I couldn't believe this. He was so unaffected by how cruel and inhumane this was. To be hosed down like a farm animal or a piece of equipment. Hydra had taken any sense of humanity from him. To them he was not human, he was The Asset. He was their machine.

I was not going to treat him like them. I would treat him like the human being he was. He looked up at me expectantly, confused to why I hadn't moved.

"Not like this." I said with force. His eyes stared up at me under his furrowed brow. He remained standing still above the drain. His muscular, trimmed body was covered in bruises and scars; a lifetime of battles written across his skin.

I averted my eyes from his naked body and went to the faucet on the sink. I saw that the spigot on the sink could be attached to the garden hose. That meant hot water. I walked to the spigot on the wall, unscrewed it, and attached it to the sink spout. Why couldn't the doctors before me do this simple thing? He obviously expected it to be attached to the other spigot- he had gotten it ready for me.

I grabbed the bar of soap and then turned the faucet on, letting the water run until it was a comfortably hot temperature. I walked over to him, his eyes on me the whole time. I held the soap out to him.

"You scrub, I'll rinse. And we'll see what we can do with that hair." He seemed confused and unsure of what I had said.

I held the soap out to him again. "I'm not doing this all myself; you need to help a little."

He gingerly took the soap, still eyeing me timidly.

"Good, now lather it up and get as much of your body as you can soapy. Here's some water." He lathered the soap in the warm water. As the water touched his skin he looked at me, his eyebrows still furrowed.

"It's warm." He stated looking confused. _How many icy hose-downs had he had to endure?_

"As it should be. Come on now, soap it up." I held the hose up to his body.

The water trickled gently out of the garden hose down his chest and back. Then I asked him to lean his head forward so I could wet his hair. He did so and I was able to moisten it all, lightly running my fingers through it. Blood and dirt trickled down his skin in rivulets. When he was completely soaked in water, he slowly began to lather his skin timidly. He lathered the soap into his hair, scrubbing his scalp with his fingers. He leaned forward towards me again, his arms at his sides, and I rinsed the soap from his hair; my fingers gently combing through it.

I carefully took the soap from his hand, walked around him, and gently lathered his back and shoulders where he could not reach. His muscles stiffened at my touch at first, but began to relax as I soothingly ran the soap over his back and shoulders. The faint scars on his back made my brow crease in concern. I was extra gentle cleaning the scars on his left shoulder where his skin met metal, even though they had healed over long ago. They must have caused him great pain when they were a fresh wound. I wondered how he had lost the arm. I came around to his side and placed the soap back in his hand. I rinsed the soap off gently with the hose; he seemed to relax as I continued to stream the hot water over his shoulders, back and forth. I noticed he gingerly touched the ribs on his right side as he passed the bar of soap over the skin there. With the blood and dirt washed away, I could see that his ribs were bruised.

"Your ribs are hurting you?" I questioned, rinsing the soap off the front of his body. He stood a head taller than me and his shoulders were broad. I had to stand on my tiptoes to make sure there was no soap left on him.

He met my eyes but didn't say anything. He stood with his arms to his sides his hand loosely gripping the soap.

"I'm your doctor; you need to tell me what is wrong so I can help you." I said gently. He didn't respond.

"Let's get you dressed, and then I need to check them."

He silently walked over to the sink and took a pair of black boxer briefs and an old towel from the bottom drawer. I turned away so he could dry off and put the underwear on. After a few moments when I heard no more movement I turned around to face him. He was sitting on the stool again and seemed more relaxed after the hot shower. He was looking at the floor, his hands resting on his knees.

I walked over to him. "I'm going to feel the ribs on your right side, it may be slightly painful."

His eyes met mine, and he nodded.

I felt his ribs and could feel nothing broken. They were most likely only bruised. I told him this and then I took an ace bandage from the medical bag and wrapped it around his side, my arms reaching around his waist, my face inches from his as I reached around. I could feel his breath on my cheek. I secured the bandage and stepped back from him. His eyes bore into mine. I was lost in his eyes for only a moment, and then I moved to the sink. I found a clean white shirt in the same bottom drawer he had gotten the towel and underwear from. I handed it to him and he put it on, pulling it down over his bandaged ribs, still staring at me.

"I think that is everything, unless you still need any medical attention?" I asked him.

He continued to look at me, that same confused look in his eyes.

"No." He finally said. He looked away from me then and turned back to stare blankly at the wall.

I felt my heart sink at the thought that I would have to leave him now. That I would push that buzzer and be taken back to my cell to possibly be beaten, starved, tortured, and left in solitary confinement for who knows how long? All of that rushed through my mind as a stared at him. And then I thought of how he would be taken back to his cell and possibly the same would happen to him until his next mission. He would be treated as a machine again. _The Asset_. My heart ached to know I couldn't at least be there to give him some of his humanity back. He seemed to be thinking the same thing as he stared blankly at the wall.

I looked away from him and went to the buzzer on the wall, pressing it. I stared at the floor.

"Lenna." He whispered my name. I looked at him quickly, my eyes wide. He had said my name. He was staring into my eyes.

"Thank you." He said simply. He stared into my eyes for a few moments more, and then he turned to face the wall. His expression blank once again.

I didn't know how to respond. If I knew his name I would have called him that. Tears welled in my eyes.

"Of course, my friend." It was all I could say.

A guard came and took me back to my cell. I curled up on the small mat in the corner and cried, not for myself as I had done in the past week, but for someone else with a much worse fate than I.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

He couldn't understand the woman's actions. She wasn't cruel, like the other doctors had been. She spoke to him. She was gentle. He could see something in her eyes that he couldn't ever remember seeing in another person's eyes before. Compassion. Sincere compassion. He could still feel her gentle hands on his body - caring for him, cleaning his wounds. He couldn't understand it.

Why had she treated him this way? She was kind.

And he was desperate for more.

He wasn't used to feeling this way. Usually he was an empty shell, void of any emotion - attached to no one. Rarely was he involved in human interaction, unless he was being tortured, given commands, or killing someone. They had tortured and wiped his memory so many times that he didn't even know who he was anymore. Maybe he had been someone else, long ago. He couldn't remember.

The Asset. That's what they called him. He began to believe that he was nothing more than a machine- trained to take orders and kill. It became his existence- a cycle of pain, darkness, and death- that he couldn't escape. They would never let him escape.

"Get in." The guard said when they reached the metal door of his cell.

The cell was a square cell with no lights or windows. There was a thin mat to sleep on in the corner and a toilet in the corner.

He entered the cell and turned to face the open door. Staring blankly at the guard.

The guard sneered at him as he pushed the button on the wall outside of the cell, sliding the metal door into place. He left The Asset in his dark, four-walled cement cell.

His eyes fell and he stared at the floor when the door shut. He closed his eyes trying to remember her face.

He was alone again.

I didn't know how long I was in my cell. Days. Weeks. All that interrupted the dark and silence was the guard shoving a tray of food through a slot in the door twice a day. I hadn't showered in forever. All I could do was wait until they called me to care for The Asset again.

I couldn't stop thinking about him. I kept replaying our first interaction through my head again and again. His eyes. They haunted me. So dark and dangerous and beautiful. I had seen fear in them. And confusion. He seemed so lost.

I thought of the scars on his body and the bruises on his skin. I thought of how he seemed to never have had a hot shower before. How he seemed to never been treated with decency.

My heart ached.

I tried to ask the guards that brought my food when I would be seeing my patient again. They ignored me. Better to be ignored than beaten, I thought.

I sat with my back against the wall, my legs stretched out in front of me, when my cell door opened. I looked up, surprised to see Alexander Peirce standing in the door of my cell.

"We need you to clear The Asset for active duty." He said.

My heart leaped. I stood, my legs weak.

"Okay."

He gestured and I followed him out of the cell.

I walked into the same infirmary room where I had first met The Asset. He was sitting on the stool next to the counter, dressed in his black military suit, the blood cleaned out of it now. He did not even register my presence. He sat rigid on the stool, his eyes fixed on the opposite wall, his mouth a slight frown and his jaw set.

"Take his vitals." Mr. Pierce ordered me.

I stepped closer to The Asset and he continued to stare at the wall as I took his vitals. I tried to be as gentle as I could but he didn't react to anything I did.

My heart sank. Maybe I had lost him.

I turned back to Mr. Pierce. "He's all clear." I said quietly.

"Good." Mr. Pierce said. "Guard, take her to the showers and then back to her cell- she stinks. Stand soldier."

The guard seized me roughly by the arm. As he pulled me out of the room I snuck a glance back at The Asset. In a moment so brief I thought I had imagined it, his eyes met mine as he stood and awaited Pierce's orders.

"Your work has shaped the century. Do not fail your mission."


	3. Chapter 3

_"Get it Lenna, hurry get it!" Maggie squealed as she jumped up and down in the water of the steady stream._

 _"I'm trying!"_

 _We had just seen a fat bullfrog jump out of the water and onto the rocks. My younger sister Maggie cheered me on as I gingerly stepped from rock to rock in pursuit of the fat bullfrog._

 _"Right there! He's right there!" I could see it clearly now – its throat inflating and deflating slowly – its beady eyes staring at me waiting for my next move. As I took one last step toward the slippery amphibian, the creature jumped sideways scaring me! I lost my footing and fell with a splash into the cool, clear, water._

I awoke suddenly with a gasp. I was drenched in ice cold water, lying on the mat of my cell. A soldier stood above me holding an empty water bottle. It was Rumlow – one of Pierce's lackeys. He had splashed the freezing water on my face.

"Good morning, princess." Rumlow taunted me. "The Asset is back, we need you to give the all clear. Immediately."

"What time is it?" I hadn't been asleep for very long.

"3 am. Let's go." He grabbed me under my arm, pulled me to my feet and forced me out the cell door. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet as I was pushed through hallway after hallway toward the now familiar infirmary. I had been held captive here for 7 weeks now – I had been keeping track of the weeks by scratching tick marks on the floor of my cell under my mat with a metal nail file I had taken from the first aid kit in the infirmary. I was no closer to planning my escape than when I had first arrived here – but I had survived. And I was gathering information about my captors and my surroundings.

With a shove, I was forced into the infirmary by Rumlow.

"I'll be back in 20 minutes." He said as he left without a backward glance. The door locked as it slid back into place in its frame.

I turned to see him standing in the center of the room. He wore a white tank top and black briefs and his wild hair fell around his eyes. I never knew if when we would meet again if he would remember me. If Hydra got wind that he remembered anything about who he was or his past, they would wipe his memory. I didn't know how they did – but I knew it was painful. The walls of my cell were thick and well insulated – but I could still hear his screams echoing down the hallway when they wiped him.

I couldn't see his face so I stepped timidly in front of him and slowly raised my hand to his cheek. He was as still as stone, his eyes staring fixedly at the floor. I gingerly touched his cheek. As if woken from a trance, his eyes flashed to mine and his body relaxed. He touched my hand softly. I let out a sigh. He remembered me.

"I haven't seen you since last week." I said as I guided him to the metal stool near the counter and cabinets.

"It was a long trip." He gave a faint smile, and then looked down at the floor, not wanting to say more about it. I began the routine procedure of taking his vitals and checking for injuries. As I inspected his head for cuts and bruises I ran a hand through his unruly hair.

"We need to do something about this." I said, ruffling his hair gently.

He smiled, "You're not allowed." He closed his eyes as I continued to comb my fingers through his dark hair, pushing it away from his face. His hair was slightly damp from the shower he must have taken before I got there.

I had spoken to the Hydra guards and insisted, after that first time we met, that he be allowed access to a proper shower – doctor's orders. I'd be damned if he were to continue to be treated like an animal – being hosed down each time he returned from a mission. Alexander Pierce approved the order – but he hadn't seemed very happy about it. Somehow I knew I would pay for that act of insubordination later, but it was worth it.

His hair smelled like pine and it was clean and I tried to gently de-tangle it with my fingers. He looked so relaxed and comfortable as I worked my fingers through his hair, I didn't dare stop. Finally, with both hands, I tucked the strands behind his ears, and leaned against the counter facing him. He opened his eyes and stared into mine for a moment then straightened up, clearing his throat.

"So," I said, folding my arms in front of me. "We still have a few minutes to talk. Have you remembered anything else?"

He sighed and then instinctively looked around to check if anyone else was near. No one could be seen through the glass windows in the outside hallway. He reached out and took my hands in his. I tried not to wince at the cold metal of his left hand and met his eyes.

"I remembered my name." He said.

My mouth dropped open. I couldn't believe it! It had been weeks of me whispering names to him as I worked to see if any of them would jog his memory. And he had remembered this on his own!

"What-?" I said dumbly.

He let go of my hands and stood in front of me, then he extended his right hand out in front for a hand shake. I gave him my hand, which felt dwarfed by his large, warm, powerful grip.

"My name is James Buchanan Barnes, nice to meet you." He said with a half smile.

I was so happy, I could have cried. Instead I let go of his hands and without thinking threw my arms around his neck in a firm hug. I could feel his

body stiffen- and then relax in to me instantly. We held each other for a few seconds – and I relished in the feel of his broad, firm, muscular chest against mine, my face buried in his neck.

I pulled away shyly and looked into his eyes. He had that uncertain look in his eyes again, as if he was still suspicious of me. I didn't blame him – after all the shit he had been through. I touched his arm gently.

"It's nice to meet you James." I said with a small smile. "How did you remember?"

"I had a dream. I was sitting in the back of a classroom as a small child. The teacher read my name during roll call and I raised my hand to say 'present'. Then I woke up, but I couldn't forget that name. It felt almost… real. Like a memory."

"Maybe it was." I said hopefully.

"Except…" He looked away and sat on the stool again. His brow creased in frustration.

"Except what?" I prompted.

"The classroom, and the teacher's clothes, it seemed as if they were from another decade. Not this one anyway." He sighed, then looked me in the eyes again. "But I'm certain about the name. It's my name. It just feels right."

"I believe you, James." I said placing a hand on his shoulder.

Just then the cell door opened and Rumlow stepped in. I quickly pulled my hand from James' shoulder and stepped back to the counter and started cleaning up the first aid kit. How much had Rumlow seen, or heard? James stood in his stiff soldier stance staring directly ahead as Rumlow entered.

Rumlow looked from him to me, and back to him.

"Get dressed. You're needed for another mission." He barked tossing The Asset's black suit at him. James caught it and began dressing immediately.

"So soon?" I questioned. "He just got back, he needs rest."

"He's fine." Rumlow spat at me. He then called for the two other guards standing in the hall to come in. "Take the princess up to the boss. Mr. Pierce wants to have a little chat with her."

He chuckled as the two guards flanked me on either side, grabbing me under the arms. I twisted my neck around for a backward glance at James as they dragged me out of the infirmary and down the hall. He didn't meet my eyes at all and stared blankly ahead as Rumlow informed him of his next mission.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you for the positive comments and feedback! I'm sorry it took me so long to start writing again - Life happened ya know. But I really love writing and Bucky is one of the most underrated and unappreciated characters of all time. I hope I can do him justice. Feedback welcome! xoxoxo - californiablueeyes**

"I've done some research on you Dr. Hartley." Pierce sat behind his desk, his fingers laced in front of him, elbows resting on the arms of his chair. "You were the top of your class at Harvard Medical, have above average IQ, and were one of the most revered physicians in Boston."

I shifted on my feet uncomfortably. He had been staring at me like a fearsome beast eyeing its cornered prey.

"A young woman with the world at her feet and so much promise-" He took a breath and raised his chin slightly, his eyes raking over my body from head to toe. Then he stared into my eyes once more. "And you gave it all up to come here, and work at the local VA hospital. I have to ask, why?"

I winced at the memories that had brought me to this city- the events that had turned my life upside down and forced me to leave my family and friends. Images of my sister's face flashed in my mind.

"I wanted a change of scene. The VA needed trained doctors, so I came." I said nonchalantly. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the complete truth either.

Pierce smiled to himself and stood from his chair. He walked around the front of his desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Come now Lenna, we both know that's not the real reason." He pulled a remote from his pocket, clicked it, and a screen behind him to the left flickered to life. On it were images of a local news story.

 _"… A local man was found dead in his home late last night. Investigators say the man may have died several weeks ago due to unknowingly ingesting rat poison…."_ Images of the dilapidated house I had grown up in flashed across the screen.

I tore my eyes from the screen and looked back to Pierce. He had been staring at me the whole time.

"Not even a single tear for the death of your father?" He tsked.

"That man was not my father." She replied as steadily as she could.

"That's right, your step father." Pierce eyed me again. "He was a real monster wasn't he? A drunkard with violent tendencies who drove your dear cancer ridden mother to her grave sooner than was expected. You and your little sister – Maggie, right? – were taken by Family Services more times than you can count and put into foster homes because of the beatings he gave the both of you in his drunken fits of rage. Yet he always got his act together and sobered up long enough to get the two of you back. Life was fairly good for a few years. You graduated high school early, moved out and started to make a life for yourself. But then he relapsed and 17 year old Maggie ended up in the ER – at the very hospital you worked at – battered and broken beyond recognition. I saw the photos in her medical records it was really quite brutal. So you snapped. And you killed him." Pierce said.

I winced fighting back tears at the memories of that night when Maggie was brought to the ER.

"I didn't kill him. He was losing his eyesight and ingested the poison by mistake. It was an unfortunate mistake."

"A mistake." Pierce smiled and took a few steps nearer to me. "Yes, mistakes do happen I suppose. I also found out that your sister fled the country weeks before the body was found, and you moved to DC before then as well. One begins to question when coincidence becomes good old fashioned pre-meditated murder."

"You're one to talk about murder." I snapped before I could stop myself.

He stared in my eyes for a few moments, and then took a deep breath.

"Well, let's not dwell on the past." He pressed a button on his desk. "What I am really intrigued by is your brain."

"What?" I swallowed, my throat was dry.

"I'd like to run a few tests – to measure the expanse of your cognitive ability." He said this as the doors opened behind me. Two guards entered the office. I knew they were here for me. I knew I would have to pay for insisting on showers for James.

"These two will escort you to the Lab." Pierce said to me. "I think you are smart enough to know it will be better for you if you do not resist."

I wasn't going down without a fight. I tried to bolt but one of the guards snatched me in a vice like grip. I couldn't move an inch – it was pathetic.

"Let go of me, you son of a bitch!" I spat struggling against his grip.

"I guess we'll have to do this the hard way." Pierce moved towards me. He raised the remote to my neck and I felt a sharp pain, like the pricking of a needle.

"You bastard…" I mumbled. Then everything went blurry. And then black.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks again for your positive reviews! It makes me want to continue writing more! Enjoy! xoxoxo - californiablueeyes**

I could hear the sounds of people talking around me but their words made no sense in my muddled mind. I struggled to open my eyes and was blinded by white light when I managed to win the battle over my heavy eyelids. There were two men near me, Pierce and a man in a white lab coat. I was lying on a cold metal table wearing nothing but a shear hospital gown. My stomach lurched thinking of who might have undressed me in my unconscious state. Some of what Pierce was saying floated to my ears.

"… Just like we discussed, full treatment: Use the Super Soldier Serum via electro-synthesis. And don't hold back, I want to see how much her brain can endure…" He said to the other man, who responded in agreement.

I struggled to move but my limbs felt like lead. Not that being able to move would have helped – my arms and ankles were tied down by heavy leather straps attached to the table.

"…Please… don't…" I whispered. I couldn't keep my eyes open.

"It seems as though the anesthetic is wearing off. Another dose will take care of that." I could feel Pierce move near me again. He leaned over me, his lips close to my ear, his hot breath on my skin.

"No need to get upset, Doctor Hartley. You're in good hands. And if you survive this, you'll become another asset to our great cause." He leaned back and the doctor handed him an injection gun. He placed it on my neck, I gasped as I felt that familiar sharp pinch, and my vision began to blur. The last image I saw was of Pierce standing over me smiling. Then everything went black once again.

-o-o-o-o-

I don't know how long it lasted. Days? Weeks? The pain was excruciating and constant as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Visions of what was being done to me came and went in a blur. An IV was in my left arm, pumping burning bright blue liquid into my veins. My skin was on fire and yet I trembled from the cold. My hair was drenched in sweat. I heard screams and was subconsciously aware that they were my own. And then came the electric shocks. They would happen randomly and come without warning. A low hum and tingle from my scalp to my toes would intensify into a body seizing jolt of electric current running through me. I couldn't breathe. When it stopped I would gasp for air like a floundering fish and as soon as it was over, as soon as I dared hope it was done – it would start again.

Finally, mercifully, I blacked out completely and could feel nothing.

-o-o-o-o-

A loud crash and several voices found their way to my ears and I stirred from a deep sleep. I was still groggy and it was difficult to make sense of my surroundings. All around me were white walls. I was lying in what looked like a hospital bed. The head of the bed was slightly tilted and I could see out through a thick glass wall with a sliding door in front of me. It was a well lit, white, sterile cell. I could see, through the glass doors, the metal table I had been tortured on. And in the center of the room – an elaborate metal chair. Sitting in the chair was James. He was shirtless; his hair matted with sweat and dirt, and his face was lined with worry, confusion, and distress. Guards were surrounding him, their weapons at the ready. Pierce, Rumlow, and several other armed guards walked into the room through a door to the left.

"Mission report." Pierce said, standing in front of James. James didn't speak.

"Mission report, now!" Pierce barked, striking James forcefully across the face.

I struggled to move. I had to help him. My body felt so heavy. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open.

"The man on the bridge… Who was he?" James asked.

"You met him earlier this week on another assignment." Pierce answered, leaning towards James.

James paused for a moment; I could see that his mind was trying to piece his memories together.

"I knew him." He said quietly.

Pierce pulled a nearby stool towards him and sat down in front of James.

"Your work has been a gift to mankind. You shaped the century." He said. "And I need you to do it one more time."

James still looked confused. He hadn't once looked in my direction. I was right in front of him. Had he been wiped during the time I was being tortured? Could he not remember me? I felt disappointment, fear, and hopelessness start to overcome me.

"Society is at a tipping point between order and chaos." Pierce said. "Tomorrow morning we're going to give it a push, but if you don't do your part, I can't do mine, and Hydra can't give the world the freedom it deserves."

"But I knew him." James said earnestly.

Pierce stood, clearly agitated by James' responses.

"Prep him." He said.

"He's been out of cryo-freeze too long." A man said.

"Then wipe him, and start over." Pierce said coldly.

All I could do was watch in horror as James was strapped to the metal chair and it was turned on. Large metal plates covered most of his head and a mouth guard was forced into his mouth. James' chest was heaving in anticipation and his screams filled the room as they began to wipe his brain.

Tears streamed down my face as I made one last feeble attempt to reach him, to move at all. I managed to turn on my side and as I struggled to stand a wave of dizziness overcame me and I fell to the floor, my head smacking against the cool concrete, knocking me out.


	6. Chapter 6

I awoke to find myself back in my original cell – the one I had been kept in from the beginning. My mind felt surprisingly clear and my skin tingled from the cold air surrounding me. Scenes flashed through my mind of James being strapped to the metal chair and I closed my eyes tight when I remembered the sound of his screams as they wiped his brain.

I touched a hand to the side of my head expecting to feel a lump or for it to be tender with a bruise from hitting the floor when I stood trying to get to him. I could feel nothing that indicated I had ever smacked my head against the floor. I quickly patted my body checking for other injuries or scars but could find no evidence of ever being tortured or beaten. How long had I been unconscious?

It was dark in my cell and eerily silent. Usually I could hear the gentle hum from the air ducts or the muffled sound of doors sliding open, or the march of soldiers feet from the hallway.

But there was nothing but silence, and darkness.

I stood against the back wall of my cell trying to make sense of my thoughts and memories. In a matter of seconds it was all laid out before me, everything that had happened to me since leaving Boston. I could see it all so clearly and I remembered every detail, every conversation, and everything I felt. Faces flashed before my eyes and I covered my face with my hands, rubbing my eyes. Light brown eyes, long lashes, light freckles and a crooked grin – my sister's face.

 _Maggie_.

I saw her face and I new I had to get to her. What if Pierce already had his sights set on her? I felt a surge of panic and had to take several breaths to calm myself. No. His plan was far grander than going after my Maggie. He had said it himself that he was using James to shape the century.

 _James!_

Where was he? Did he remember me? Did he remember himself?

I had to find him… and we would go to Maggie. Yes. It was a perfect plan. Seven digits flashed across my mind. I had given her the pre-paid cell phone and I memorized the number so I could contact her in case of an emergency. _Well this sure as hell counts_ , I thought.

I had to escape. I had to find him. I had to call her. We had to get to her.

I looked up and stared at the door to my cell. All I need to do is escape from an impenetrable cell and find my way out of a fortress of twisting hallways and passages. Then find a mentally unstable, brainwashed, armed assassin in a city of over 700,000 people, convince him not to kill me and that we're actually friends, contact my long lost sister, and flee the country.

"Should be easy." I said aloud. Then I sighed deeply and slid to the floor with my back still against the wall.

I sat for a few minutes thinking this all over. Suddenly there was a pounding on the door of my cell which caused me to jump and shuffle to the corner of the room. This was it, Pierce was coming for me now, it was all over. The pounding continued over and over and I stared wide eyed as the door was pulled from its metal frame. An large figure entered.

He knelt in front of me, his face bloody and his hair and suit soaking wet.

He reached a cold metal hand toward me and touched my knee.

"Lenna." He whispered gently.

I scrambled up onto my knees and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding on tightly.

"James." I breathed out.


	7. Chapter 7

I sat in the passenger seat of the black Escalade we had stolen from Hydra and glanced at James as he drove us out of the city along the highway.

After he had found me in my cell we stole money from a safe James new about in the armory, and found some fresh clothes to change into from a locker room closet, basic gray t shirts and slim black military style pants. Then we had agreed to go to Boston, contact my sister, and then get out of the country – somehow. We would have to find someone to make us fake ID's and passports but our main concern now was getting out of the city which was in chaos. I caught glimpses of destroyed buildings and smoke from the grounded heli-carriers – all part of Pierce's plan, I was sure. I said nothing as we drove away from the wreckage, a pit growing in my stomach because I knew James was somehow involved with the devastation.

I took in his facial expressions as he drove trying to read him, but his face was like stone, his brow furrowed in thought or concentration – revealing nothing. I said nothing, not wanting to distract or ask him any questions that might upset him, although I had a million to ask. It wasn't until we had driven for a few hours that he relaxed his shoulders slightly, glanced at me, and extended his right hand towards me.

I took his hand in mine and gently rubbed his bruised and bloody fingers with my thumb. I still did not speak. He sighed and relaxed a little more but continued to stare ahead saying nothing. We drove for several more hours until it became dark and I drifted to sleep, still holding his hand.

I awoke to the sound of my door being opened and James reaching across me to unbuckle my seat belt. I looked at him confused.

"Come on, I got us a room." He pulled me from the car shutting the door and locking it. I looked around and saw the flickering neon sign to the hotel we were staying at. It was the only building for miles, except for a gas station I could see down the road. James slid the key card into the slot on the door and I followed him into the room.

"Where are we?" I asked looking around the dimly lit room. A small table, chairs, tv, queen size bed and nightstand were in the front of the hotel room and a bathroom could be seen in the back.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Just outside of Hartford." He said.

"You've been driving for hours, I'm sorry I fell asleep." I felt terrible, he must be exhausted. I sat in the chair near him.

"I'm fine." I could tell he was lying. I could hear how tired he was in his voice. Not just physically tired, but mentally and emotionally too.

"Why don't you go shower and I'll see if I can find us something to eat at that gas station."

He looked at me concerned.

"It'll be fine." I said standing up.

He nodded, but I knew he was not convinced.

"I'll be right back." Taking a few bills from the bag of money we had taken. I stuffed the money into my pocket, grabbed one of the hotel key cards, and the keys to the escalade from off of the small table.

He stared at me as I walked toward the door.

"If you're going to leave me, now would be a good time. You're not too far into this mess. You can still get out." His eyes were pained, but he was completely serious.

I turned around staring at him in disbelief.

"You should take all of the money though. To get you to Maggie." He stood and headed toward the bathroom.

I couldn't believe it. He thought I was ditching him. Abandoning him. Leaving him alone in all this.

"James." I said firmly enough for him to stop and turn around and look at me.

"I am not leaving you. I would never do that." I said softly. He had the same wounded look in his eyes that I had seen the first time I had met him.

"I'm – not good. I've done things- I don't want to ruin your life, Lenna. Too many lives have been ruined at my hand and I can't do that to you. It's all coming back to me, I can see their faces." He leaned his forehead against the wall and rested his arms on the wall above his head.

I walked toward him. I touched his waist and gently nudged him to face me. I reached up and put my hands on the back of his neck and made sure he was looking me in the eyes.

"You did those things under the command of evil men." He closed his eyes and shook his head letting it fall. "Please, look at me James."

He looked up, tears threatening to spill over the edge of his dark eyelashes.

"I am not giving up on you, James Buchanan Barnes. You are not unredeemable and I have faith in you. If you don't have any faith in yourself right now, borrow some of mine. I am not leaving you. We will figure all of this out together." I gently tucked his hair behind his ears.

His head lowered and he touched my forehead with his. I held his cheek in my hand and rubbed my thumb across it, wiping away a tear that had escaped.

Carefully, I tilted my head and reached up, my lips touching his gently. His lips were soft and he pushed gently against mine. I pulled back slowly looking into his eyes. I hoped I hadn't upset him. His eyes opened slowly and he searched mine earnestly.

Then he lowered his lips to mine again and kissed me deeply, his arms wrapping around me, holding me tightly.

After a few moments, he pulled back and rested his forehead on mine again.

"Thank you." He said quietly.

I smiled at him.

"Go and shower, I'll be right back."


	8. Chapter 8

I got in and out of the gas station convenience store as quickly as possible, trying my best to be inconspicuous. I had purchased some food, water, a small first aid kit, and a couple of baseball caps and a hoodie sweatshirt for each of us. I also bought a cheap pre-paid cell phone and a minute card to go with it.

I had made it back to the hotel but I was still sitting in the driver's seat of the Escalade, thinking about the kiss.

I wasn't thinking about the kiss because it felt good, and made my heart skip a beat.

I was thinking about it because when my lips touched his, I _saw_ things. Memories. His memories. I could _see_ his memories.

They were blurred at the edges, and dim, but I saw them – flashes from his past.

I saw James as a young boy walking home from school in 1927 at the age of ten with a blonde haired boy at his side. They were laughing and smiling and kicking rocks as they walked down the dirt road.

I saw him jogging in the cold winter morning air during basic training at Camp McCoy, in Wisconsin.

I saw him strapped to a cold metal table, a mechanical arm being attached to each nerve ending and muscle in his arm, and I saw him scream in agony from the torture of it.

I saw him with Captain America on an overpass, "Bucky…" he said. "Who the hell is Bucky?" James replied.

I stared at the closed curtained windows of our hotel room. What had Pierce and the Hydra doctor done to my brain when I was tortured with the Soldier Serum? Was this the result of their experiments? I shivered at the memories of being strapped to that table and the feel of Pierce's warm breath in my ear as I lay there helpless, sinking into unconsciousness. I wanted to talk to James about what I had seen, but I didn't want to freak him out, or worse, what if he didn't believe me?

Shaking my head, I grabbed the sack of groceries I had purchased _._

 _I should get back inside before James starts to worry,_ I thought, and stepped out of the car.

As I entered the hotel room, I could hear the water turn off in the bathroom. James had just finished showering.

I set the supplies out on the table and started activating the cell phone.

James stepped out of the bathroom, wearing only a pair of black boxer – briefs. He was drying his shaggy dark hair with a towel. The water glistened on his skin and I had to pull my eyes away from him. I could feel a blush on my cheeks.

I had been his doctor for months and had seen him in his underwear many times, so why was I blushing now for heaven's sake!?

"Dinners ready." I said gesturing to the food and water on the table. "The finest the local gas station has to offer." I smiled at him.

He half smiled and took an apple from the table. "Thank you." He said and sat in one of the chairs.

"Did you call your sister yet?" He asked nodding at the cell phone in my hand.

"Not yet, the phone is activated, but I thought we could call her in the morning." I said standing up. "I'm going to take a shower."

He nodded. Then he stood and wrapped his arms around me gently.

"I'm glad you came back." He said into my neck.

I held him tightly.

"Of course I did." I pulled away and smiled at him. He half smiled, and I melted. What I wouldn't give to see him grin, maybe even laugh. _That may take awhile,_ I thought.

"Careful in there, the temperature goes from ice to boiling in about two seconds." He sat back down in the chair and grabbed a granola bar.

"Haha! Thanks for the warning." I said as I stepped into the bathroom.

I undressed, adjusted the temperature of the water, and stepped into the shower. The hot water flowed over my head and shoulders and felt like heaven. It had been so long since I'd had a truly private shower – I had always been guarded when I was allowed to shower at the Hydra Facility and I suspected they had been sneaking lustful glances at me.

My muscles relaxed under the hot water as I shampooed and conditioned my hair. After rinsing the soap from my hair and off my body I stepped out of the shower and saw myself in the mirror.

I was shocked at what I saw. My body looked more muscular and toned than it had since my capture. How could that be? I had been starved and beaten for weeks.

Then I remembered the Soldier Serum. It must have had an effect on my physical body as well as my mind. I remembered waking up in my cell, on the day James had found me, expecting to feel a lump or bruise on my head from falling -but I had felt nothing. Not a bruise or scratch could be found on my skin.

I pulled on my undergarments and my t shirt. I combed through my hair and brushed my teeth with one of the complimentary toothbrushes on the counter by the sink. James' toothbrush was already used and set neatly next to the sink. I smiled at that. A small action like that showed his personality and was evidence that he was quickly regaining his humanity.

I came out of the bathroom only to find James already asleep on the right side of the bed. He was lying on his back, his right arm raised over his head and his metal arm across his broad chest. His face looked peaceful for once, his brow relaxed, his features still. _He is so handsome,_ I thought.

I turned off the lamp on the nightstand and crawled into the bed next to him.

"Come here." He said sleepily with his eyes still closed. He stretched out his right arm inviting me in next to him. I scooted in close and rested my head on his shoulder, my hand resting on his stomach. He smelled so good, and he wrapped his right arm around me pulling me closer to him. He kissed the top of my head.

"You smell good." He said quietly and I smiled into his shoulder. I could hear his breathing become steady again as he fell back to sleep.

I would tell him what I had seen tomorrow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey everybody! Thanks so much for your kind reviews and for reading my story! It's not perfect but it's been fun to write! I finally have time to write with school being on break for the Christmas holidays. I suck at updating, but I've had the writing bug lately, so lucky you haha! Some of you have asked about chapter one and how I was inspired for that chapter. I have always been so drawn to Bucky's character, mostly because Sebastian is such a talented (and underated) actor. I mean holy crapballs - he can emote so much emotion with just his eyes and the slight crease in his forehead! I was searching for fanart on pinterest (because I'm a nerd) and I saw a drawing of Bucky sitting on the floor, (tastefully) naked, with water falling on him. The puddle on the floor was shaped like the hydra symbol, and he looked so defeated and sad. Poor Bucky! Art has always been a passion of mine and this drawing inspired the first chapter of this story and it has grown from there. Anyway, I'll stop rambling. Please enjoy! - californiablueeyes**

"Hey it's me." I said as the voicemail on Maggie's phone began recording. "We need to talk. Call me back at this number."

I ended the phone call and looked at James in the driver's seat. We didn't really have a plan until Maggie called us back. For now we were headed towards Boston.

"What do we do?" I asked him. "How do we get ID's and passports, or even a plane ticket? I don't even know where she is or what to plan for."

He glanced at me, and reached for my hand. I took his and sighed.

"Hydra has only been exposed for a few days. There are ways we can travel internationally without being detected."

"What, so we are going to steal a hydra plane?!" I laughed.

He didn't say anything but looked at me like it was the most obvious thing in the word.

"James." I said skeptically. "Please explain."

"When I was assigned a mission, there were safe houses, private airports, and military grade jets that were at my disposal in order to do whatever it took to get the job done. I know all of the access codes and we could easily hi-jack a jet and fly undetected internationally. No airports, ID's or passports needed. I know of several unseemly people in almost every country that could forge documents for us and I speak nearly every language."

"Holy Shit." I said. "Ok, well that makes this all a little easier, I guess."

The phone began to vibrate in my hand.

"Hello?" I said as I answered the call, putting it on speaker phone.

"Lenna?"

I nearly cried hearing her voice.

"Maggs!" I exclaimed. "It's so good to hear your voice!"

"You too Len, is everything ok? I saw what was happening in DC on the news but I couldn't contact you, thank goodness you're ok!""

"I'm safe, but we need to come to you. Where are you?"

"Bucharest." She replied. "Who are you with?"

"A friend." I said, glancing at James. "We are getting on a plan tonight or tomorrow. I can't talk much now, but I'll call you when we're in Bucharest. I love you Maggie, and we'll see you soon."

"I get it. Love you too Len, bye."

The call ended and my eyes filled with tears. James squeezed my hand.

"I haven't heard her voice in years." I said wiping my eyes with my free hand.

"You'll see her soon. Lucky for you I speak perfect Romanian." He half smiled.

"Isn't that convenient?" I smiled. "So where's your private jet?"

"There is a private Hydra airport and runway near Providence, Rhode Island. We can make it there in about an hour. Then it's about a 15 hour flight to Romania."

I looked at him in awe. "How do you know all this?"

He looked at me uncomfortably. "I was their weapon for decades Lenna. I know it all because I was programmed to. I was given every once of knowledge and training in order to complete my missions. To be their ultimate ghost assassin. To kill for them." He pulled his hand away from mine and put it on the steering wheel, gripping it tightly.

Of course. I could have kicked myself for asking such a dumb question. I swallowed and looked out the window ahead of us.

"I'm sorry, It was stupid of me to ask that question." I said quietly.

He glanced at me with concern.

"I am not mad you asked." He rubbed his forehead. "I'm – disgusted with myself." He sighed, his eyes on the road falling away in front of him. "If you only knew the atrocities I have committed- you would jump from this car."

I thought of the memories I had seen when we had kissed, and thought of what other memories were buried deep in the recesses of his mind. Memories he wanted so desperately to forget.

"You make me feel so calm when I'm with you, Lenna. From that first day in the infirmary you awoke something in me that had been asleep for so long." He glanced at me. "I couldn't understand your kindness, I had been treated like a dog for so many years. But then there you were, so kind, and calm, and soft and beautiful. You seemed so out of place in my dark and loathsome world. But there you were, an unearthly creature. I thought I was dreaming, or that I was with an angel in Heaven. But it couldn't have been heaven, my soul belongs in Hell." His brow creased in anger.

I reached for his hand and took it in my own.

"That is completely false." I said. "You were forced to do those things. It wasn't the real you."

"But I did them." He said glancing at me. "And I was good at it. And after awhile, I felt nothing."

I raised his hand to my lips and kissed his fingers.

"And now, you are turning away from all that. Changing your course and choosing your new path." He looked at me earnestly.

"I want to believe that." He said.

"It's true. The Asset is no longer in control. Bucky is."

Before I knew what was happening he looked at me suddenly, jerked his hand away, swerved off the side of the road, threw the car into park and yelled with such a rage that I had never seen in him before, "How did you know that name!?"

I stared at him with shock and wide eyes.

"I just-, I -" I stumbled over my words. I couldn't answer him without sounding bat shit crazy.

He got out of the car and walked about 20 feet before stopping and kneeling down in the tall grass that grew by the side of the road. He was holding his face in his hands.

I didn't know what to do, but despite my fear, I got out of the car and cautiously walked towards him.

"James," I said softly.

"I'm so sorry Lenna." He said ashamed. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm so sorry."

I knelt in front of him, and uncovered his face, taking his hands in mine.

"I forgive you, it's ok." I said soothingly. I touched his cheek and ran my fingers through his hair. "Come here."

I put my arms around his neck and he pulled me onto his lap, straddling him. He held me tightly breathing into my neck. I could feel his heart beat slow to a steady pace as he calmed down.

"My mind is still broken, Lenna. It's unpredictable and I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt you." He pleaded.

"I understand. It's ok, I'm fine James. I'm sorry." I rubbed his back and shoulders soothingly. "Let's get back in the car, and I'll drive for awhile, ok?"

He nodded, we stood, and I held onto his arm as we made our way back to the car.

Before starting the car, I turned to him in my seat.

"James, I will tell you how I knew that name, I promise you I will. But it has to be when we are safely out of the country ok? I don't want to lie to you and you deserve to know the truth. So when it's safe, and we are settled in Bucharest, I will tell you. Ok?" I searched his eyes pleadingly.

After a moment he said softly, "Ok."

I reached out and squeezed his hand. Then I started the car and merged back onto the road, headed towards Rhode Island.


End file.
